


A Shot at Happiness (Tsukiyama Shuu x Reader)--HIATUS

by Aite



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ghoul Investigators, Ghouls, Implied Sexual Content, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-24
Packaged: 2018-03-13 18:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3391556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aite/pseuds/Aite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's difficult for humans and ghouls to have a relationship, but that's not nearly as difficult as it can get. Can a romance between a member of the CCG (Ghoul Investigators) and a ghoul ever last? </p><p>You, the reader, are a newly-promoted ghoul investigator, and you are dating the love of of your life, Tsukiyama Shuu. You're happy, but you both have things you're hiding from each other. Can the happiness last when those secrets come to light?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life is Good

“How do you feel now that you’ve been promoted, (y/n)-san?” Your superior Amon gave you a congratulatory clap on the back. 

“I’m happy to help.” You smiled. You had been working for the CCG for a few years now, training to be the best investigator you could. Now you were finally accepted by the higher-ups as capable, and could start helping with big cases. No longer would you be stuck with office work! You now could claim a Quinque as your own and start brawling with ghouls. 

You weren’t terribly keen on getting into a scuffle with the flesh-eaters, but you felt that it was your civic duty to protect the citizens of Tokyo from the ghouls. And you couldn’t do that behind a desk. 

“We’re happy to have you with us,” Amon said, giving you an approving nod. “We’re working on a particularly difficult case right now. Have you heard of a ghoul called ‘The Gourmet’? He’s been terrorizing the 20th ward for awhile now, but we just can’t seem to pin him down.”

You suddenly had chills. You have of course had heard of The Gourmet. He was one of the 20th ward’s most notorious ghouls. And you got to help take him down. _‘Be cool (y/n),’_ you thought to yourself, _you don’t want to make a bad impression._ Especially not to Amon. You admired your co-worker and his dedication to the job. He was intelligent, strong, and reliable. He was without a doubt one of the CCG’s best assets. It was an honor to be assigned to the same ward as him. 

“Maybe a fresh perspective on the case will help,” you offered. 

”Perhaps. But we will worry about that momentarily. Before you can be a field agent, you need a Quinque.” Amon gestured for you to follow him down to the labs. 

The scientists and developers down in the lab had been working to develop a Quinque just for you—you were excited to see the results. 

\--

“They’re beautiful,” you breathed, looking at your new arsenal. Laid out on the table before you was a set of seven knives. Six of them were small and portable, and could easily fit in your pocket or the slip under your skirt. The seventh knife was larger; it was about half the length of your arm. When you were told that you would be getting your new Quinque, you hadn’t expected perfection. 

“It was brought to our attention that you’re quite skilled with throwing knives,” one of the lab assistants began, “so we made a weapon set with that in mind. The larger blade is for if you must get into close combat, but—”

“I should avoid that at all costs,” you finished for him. You nodded sagely and then picked up one of the blades. It was absolutely beautiful. Staring at it, you wondered what to name your marvelous new set of blades. 

\--

“How was your day, ma petite cherie?”

you were greeted warmly when you stepped into your boyfriend’s apartment. A wondrous scent filled your nostrils—it seems your boyfriend was cooking again.

“I was promoted,” you replied cheerily. You head towards the kitchen, where the delightful smell was coming from. When you entered, you were amused by what you saw. Although you loved your boyfriend dearly, he was renowned for having the worst fashion sense ever. Today was even worse than usual. He wore his obnoxiously purple suit with a red shirt underneath—an outfit you had seen many times, but never paired with a pink apron overtop. You weren’t sure if you should be cringing or laughing. 

“Tres bien, ma belle,” he congratulated you. “As soon as I finish here, you can tell me all about it.” He proceeded to grab some obnoxiously purple oven mitts and took dinner out of the oven. You had to smile a little. Even his cooking wear didn’t match. 

“The sooner you finish in the kitchen, the sooner you can get rid of those god-awful clothes Shuu-san,” you teased. You brought up the topic of his rather extreme fashion sense quite often, so Shuu had learned to take some good-natured teasing.

“All I’m hearing is that you want me to take my clothes off,” he responded with a sly grin. “Besides, this outfit is the height of fashion. You just wouldn’t understand.” Tsukiyama feigned being injured by your words. 

”It’s OK that you’re color blind. I love you all the same.” You reached into the cupboard and pulled out dinnerware for the two of you. “Besides, your cooking is to die for.”

”I’m glad to see where your priorities lie,” Shuu chuckled. He brought the roast over to the table and admired his handiwork. “However, I’m inclined to agree with you. Tres bien, if I do say so myself.”

“And you’re so modest, too.” You put the plates down in their respective positions on the table and then turned to the mauve-haired man. “Just one of the many things I love about you.” You wrapped the incredibly tall man up in a hug, content to hold him for awhile. He, however, was not. He lifted your chin up and leaned down a bit in order to kiss you. You still had to stand on your tip-toes a bit to reach him, but you didn’t mind. 

After a few moments, you both reluctantly separated yourselves from each other’s faces. If it wasn’t for the all-important need for oxygen intake, there was no doubt you would still be glued to each other. 

Shuu exhaled slowly before saying, “and that is one of the many things I love about you, mon amour.” He gazed at you for a moment before turning his attention to the table. “Shall we? Before it gets cold.”

As you took your place at the table, you couldn’t help but marvel at how lucky you were. You just got a promotion at work, you got to eat Shuu’s wonderful cooking on a regular basis, and you were in love with one of the most fashion-challenged men on Earth. Life was good. 


	2. Anniversary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shuu?” You blinked a few times, trying to get your bearings. “What are you doing here? It’s so early,” you mumbled. Your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet. 
> 
> “Must I have permission to be in my own bedroom?” Shuu chuckled, admiring your dazed reactions. Tres amusant. 
> 
> \--  
> Also, Shuu sniffs things. He knows things

"Happy anniversary, ma Cherie.”

You awoke to the sounds of Tsukiyama’s cheerful voice above you. You sat up and rubbed your eyes blearily. Your hair stood up in all directions from being pressed against the pillow all night. 

“Shuu?” You blinked a few times, trying to get your bearings. “What are you doing here? It’s so early,” you mumbled. Your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet. 

“Must I have permission to be in my own bedroom?” Shuu chuckled, admiring your dazed reactions. Tres amusant. 

“Your own…” You puzzled that out for a minute. This was Shuu’s apartment? A quick glance around the room confirmed that you were not in your own bedroom. For one, you didn’t have really tacky paintings on the walls. ‘Modern art’ indeed. For another, you didn’t have silken sheets. And finally, you pajamas weren’t nearly so loose. Glancing down, you realized you weren’t in your pajamas—you were wearing one of Shuu’s obnoxious, over-sized shirts. You cringed a little looking at it; the pattern was just so awful. Cyan and plaid had no business being on the same shirt.

“Oui, you fell asleep when we were watching that movie last night,” Shuu said, placing something on your lap. “And you were just so mignon, I couldn’t wake you.”

A small streak of blush crept across your face. It was not the first time Tsukiyama had seen you naked, but being conscious for it and being sound asleep were two different matters. In order to distract yourself from your embarrassment, you regarded the item Shuu had plunked in your lap. It was a lovely silver tray, piled high with all of your favorite breakfast foods and a glass of orange juice. 

“What did I do to deserve this?” You could think of nothing that you had done to deserve the royal treatment. Sure, you had gotten a promotion, but all of the celebrating had been the previous night.

Shuu’s lips curled into a smile. “I see you weren’t listening to me before,” he chided you. “I said, happy anniversary, ma Cherie.” He leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Six months of happiness, oui?”

You felt your face get hot again. You had completely forgotten that today was your anniversary. In order to counteract your shame, you decided to tease Tsukiyama. “Have I really been stuck with you that long?”

“Oui, and you enjoy every minute of it.” He ruffled your already disastrous hair, “you may want to start eating, Cherie. You still have to get ready for work.”

You groaned. “Do I have to?” You knew you had to—it would not do well to receive a promotion and then call in the next day. 

“Oui, you must. But today is Friday, which means that we can celebrate our anniversary properly when you return. 

You smiled and put a piece of bacon in your mouth. That would be good. “Sound like a plan. I’ll be back a little late, though. So I’ll give you a call when I’m headed back.” You chewed the bacon happily—as with all the food Shuu made, it tasted wonderful. It was just the right amount of crispy and chewy. 

“Be sure to call,” Shuu told you. He made a point of asking you to call every time you were going to be out late. You assumed it was so he wouldn’t have to worry about your whereabouts. Suddenly, he was in the process of laying out your clothes for you. It wasn’t the black suit and skirt that you had worn yesterday, but they were definitely feminine clothes, so you were a little perplexed. 

“I will.” You took a sip of your orange juice then asked, “Where did that suit come from? I don’t remember buying it.”

“Of course you don’t, because I did,” Shuu stated. “I bought it just for today. Do you like it?” He held up a dark purple suit with pink trim. The blouse was white, thankfully. 

“It’s great,” you lied. You just didn’t have the heart to tell him that you didn’t agree with his fashion choices. Plus, it would be better than wearing the same thing two days in a row. “Merci.” You flushed a little, embarrassed that you had picked up on Shuu’s strange vocabulary. 

“Tres bien,” Shuu smirked, not missing a beat, “then finish getting ready and we will celebrate tonight.” He kissed you again before heading towards the door. 

“Happy anniversary Shuu,” you called after him. “I love you.” 

“Je te aime ma belle,” Shuu blew you a kiss and then exited. 

\--

Tsukiyama gathered up the shirt you left discarded on the bed in favor of more professional clothes—too bad, the pantless look rather suited you. He intended to throw the garment in the dirty clothes, but as he did so, a wonderful scent wafted into his nostrils. It was a subtle, delicate scent, but it was so… _dolce._ Unable to resist, he pressed the shirt to his face and inhaled. Your scent lingered on his shirt; while it was a scent he was quite familiar with, he was never free to indulge in it with your presence. After a few small sniffs, he buried his nose deeply into the fabric and inhaled. His eyelids became heavy and his mouth parted slightly. After a few seconds, his eyes closed fully, and he was lost in pure ecstasy. 

\--

“Oooh, that’s a flashy suit you’re wearing isn’t it?” 

You arrived at work prepared to deal with some teasing from your cohorts, but you had hoped it wouldn’t start so soon. The remark came from Seidou Takizawa, a Rank 2 Ghoul Investigator. While you two stood on roughly equal footing, you were sure that you were much more mature than the brown-haired man. Especially since he took every opportunity presented to fight with Amon’s partner, Akira Mado. 

“I suppose so.” You defelected the statement, hoping he wouldn’t push the subject further. 

“Did you get dressed in the dark, or did you run out of clean clothes?” He tugged at the pink trim on your suit.

“It was a gift, actually.” You proceeded down the hall, willing your cheeks not to turn red with shame.

“A gift? From whom? Who could possibly be so color blind?” 

“Her boyfriend,” came a matter-of-fact voice. The two of you looked down the hall to see Akira Mado—and Seidou’s expression visibly soured. 

“Oh? And how did you come up with that theory? Your famous intuition?” sneered Seido. 

Akira replied with a haughty smile of her own. “Nothing of the sort. If you were a little more observant, you might notice things. He’s the flashy guy that rides the limousine.” She looked at your suit quickly before adding to her statement. “He wears an ungodly assortment of reds, purples, and pinks. A color scheme that (y/n)-san seems to share this morning.” Akira crossed her arms, satisfied with her (simple) deductive reasoning.

You were scanning the hall for a hole to crawl in. They had seen your flamboyant lover dropping you off at work in the mornings when you were late. “Yeah, that’s him,” you responded weakly. 

“I see, (y/n) –san really hangs out with the classy guys, huh?” Takizawa sighed. He put his hand in his pocket and felt the felt the contents. Two tickets to (your favorite band) playing on Saturday. Guess there was no use for them now. He crumpled the papers within the palm of his hands. 

“Classy men,” Akira murmured, “which doesn’t include the likes of you.”

Her smile just added salt to Seidou’s wound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry it's so late ;~; I've been terribly busy 
> 
> It's a bit of a fluffy chapter, but I'm heading towards a plot, I swear // ;; 
> 
> Notes:
> 
> Tres bien: very good
> 
> Dolce: sweet
> 
> Ma belle: my beautiful 
> 
> Tres amusant: very amusing
> 
> Je te aime: I love you
> 
> Mignon: cute


	3. Above Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You tore off a piece of your notebook paper and began making a list of your current profile ideas. Under the title of ‘Gourmet’ you wrote:   
>  Likes beautiful victims  
>  Male  
>  Handsome?   
>  Involved with Ghoul Restaurant  
>  Rich/ high society  
>  As you stared at the make-shift profile, a few words jumped out at you: Handsome, rich, male. Suddenly, images of a certain fashion-challenged man flashed through your mind.   
> \--  
> A wild plot appears on the horizon...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so short, everyone! I did not have as much time to write as I would have liked. However, my next chapter will be significantly longer! Please look forward to it!
> 
> As always, thank you for your comments, kudos, and hits on my work! If you have any suggestions, questions, or comments, feel free to say something. I appreciate every comment <3

You stared at the papers on your desk, willing them to give you answers. The report told you everything possible about the Gourmet—except for who he might be. It listed his feeding habits and times, from his first appearance to his last. You were really worried about his next appearance. Based on the current trend of his attacks, the Gourmet would be choosing another victim soon. You were determined to interrupt his next meal at all costs. 

With a sigh, you carefully reviewed the information that you had in front of you. The Gourmet chose his victims carefully: he seemed to prefer attractive, young men and women. The beauty standards he held his victims to could possibly reflect the standards he held for himself. He wouldn’t eat any ‘unworthy’ meat. It was highly likely that he was involved with the suspected ghoul restaurant. However, no of the investigators had been able to infiltrate it yet. Any time a member of the CCG got remotely close to the place, they were denied access. It was either a really exclusive high-society restaurant, or it was feeding grounds for ghouls. Maybe both. You also assumed The Gourmet was male, but you weren’t one-hundred percent sure on that. /p>

You tore off a piece of your notebook paper and began making a list of your current profile ideas. Under the title of ‘Gourmet’ you wrote: 

Likes beautiful victims

Male

Handsome? 

Involved with Ghoul Restaurant

Rich/ high society

As you stared at the make-shift profile, a few words jumped out at you: Handsome, rich, male. Suddenly, images of a certain fashion-challenged man flashed through your mind. It fit—he had money, high standards, and fancied himself an expert in cuisine. 

_However,_ you reminded yourself before the feeling of panic could settle into your stomach, _ghouls don’t eat human food._ And Shuu, you thought happily, not only ate human food, but he also prepared some of the most wonderful dishes you had ever had the pleasure of tasting. You shook your suspicions about your boyfriend from your mind, dismissing them as an irrational train of thought from someone who had no leads. You briefly had to wonder what sort of world you lived in where even the ones you loved weren’t above suspicion. 

\--

“Are you sure you can’t join us? There’s this great noodle shop just down the block.”

While you were flattered by Amon’s invitation to join him, Takizawa, and Mado for dinner, you had to decline. “I’m sorry, I’ve made other plans. Next time?” you suggested. 

Amon nodded in agreement. “Of course. Stay safe and vigilant on your way home.”

After promising him that you would, you gave your regards to the trio and proceeded to the shopping district. 

“What other plans could she have?” Seidou pouted. 

“Unlike some people,” Akira began, watching you depart, “she has a life.” 

\--

“What should I get?” 

You stood in the department store, staring at the array of different suits you could purchase. You needed to pick the perfect gift for Shuu—especially after you faux pas this morning. How could you have forgotten your anniversary? 

The fashion consultant had passed by several times, asking if he could assist with your selection. Each time you waved him away with a smile and a ‘no thank you.’ You found it impossible to tell him that the world’s best fashion consultant would be at a loss with Shuu. There was simply no rhyme or reason to how he chose his clothes. Perhaps he approached each new day with thoughts like ‘what would it look like if Skittles exploded on my wardrobe?’ 

The assortment of color choices was endless: there were vermillion shirts, chartreuse suits, periwinkle ties, and plenty more colors you hadn’t even heard of. It was a challenge to create an outfit Tsukiyama would find pleasing, but wouldn’t totally offend everyone else’s eyes.

In the end, you found that to be an impossible task. No matter what you chose, if you were catering to Tsukiyama’s taste, it would be an eyesore. After half an hour of deliberating, you had decided to go an entirely different route with your gift choice. You made your way to the jewelers. 

Some time later, you exited the jewelers—wallet significantly lighter, and your credit card debt significantly higher. However, as you walked with the straps of the small package wrapped around you wrist, you were sure you had chosen well. It was a gift worthy of Shuu, and it was something you would be proud to say you bought for him

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read this! c: This started with my wish to write something about Tsukiyama, and a silly idea. It will most likely become a multi-chaptered work. 
> 
> I can't predict what kind of ending this will have until I get there. As a Shuu fan, I'm hoping it will be a pleasant one. But I'm not going to force a happy ending if it doesn't feel right. 
> 
> I hope you don't mind the Quinque I gave you. //sweats
> 
> Also, I am not a French speaker. I'm just beginning to learn, so if something is incorrect, I'm sorry. Feel free to correct me. My understanding of mon/ma cher/cherie comes from this: http://moeby.tumblr.com/post/26014462397
> 
> Mon amour: http://french.stackexchange.com/questions/646/what-is-the-feminine-for-amour  
>  ~~plus, I think Shuu just walks around with Google Translate on his phone, anyway~~
> 
> I'm open to suggestions with this piece, so comment away!


End file.
